


Angel in Bluejeans

by jxackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean x OC, Dean x Reader, Friendship, SPN Imagine, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxackles/pseuds/jxackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without knowing it, she was the one thing that scared him the most; she was also the one thing he needed most. She was his angel in blue jeans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A light sigh spilled from your lips as your eyes began to flutter open, dim silver rays pouring into the window of your bedroom. Turning the alarm clock on the side table towards you; the bright red numbers indicated that it was much too early to be awake, for normal people anyway. Nothing about your life was normal. The fact that you were waking up in your own bed wasn't normal. Most nights you fell asleep in one of those uncomfortable, cheap motel beds that have probably been used in many situations you never want to think about. A slight shudder racks through your shoulders as you stretch your arms over your head, your long golden brown hair falling over your shoulders.

Running your hand through your hair, you decided it was best to see if anything new had come in. You knew they would want to start a new case almost immediately. This was the first time in a long time you hadn't gone with them. He said that they needed someone to stay back and keep researching whatever this thing was. But you knew why he really wanted you to stay behind. He thought it was too dangerous for you; he always did. Whatever this thing was, it kept kidnapping young women, just like you. Except, those women didn't have the background you did. Nevertheless, he won the argument.

Checking your phone, an unread message from Sam flashed across the screen. Sam had kept in contact with you the whole hunt. He was the one to call you and ask questions or text you to let you know that they were okay. A heavy sigh left your lips before you rubbed your tired eyes. Rolling your shoulders back straight, you left the message unread as you walked into the kitchen. Pressing the green button on the coffee maker, the sounds of coffee bean powder being drenched in boiling hot water filled the air around you. This was something you missed when you were on the road. Good coffee. Especially after a long, restless night.

Your barefeet crisscrossed beneath your knees as you held them near your chest, your back against one of the white wooden pillars of your porch. The moon beginning to set in the distant sky as you raised the warm coffee mug to your lips. Soon the sun would be rising in the east, people would be waking up to get ready for work, buzzing around the town to get into office buildings and begin their boring everyday life. But not you. You would set yourself up in your library, researching a new case, setting things up so you and the boys could head out when they were well rested. It wasn't often you got to enjoy your home. The quiet that enveloped you whenever you were there was something you never got anywhere else.

The sereneness was quickly interrupted by a loud purr that made your heart jump a little when you heard it. Your eyes fixated on the mug in your hands, fingers lightly tracing over the rim as it rest on your knees. The purr was like music to your ears, there was nothing quite like the sound of that 1967 Chevy Impala driving up to greet you. You heard their groans as they dragged themselves from Baby. A quick pat on the hood and two pairs of boots were pounding their way up the wooden stairs of your porch. They didn't notice you on the railing, probably too tired to notice. You waited a few moments after they entered the house before you heard the screen door swing open again and loud footsteps could be heard making their way towards you. There was only one pair this time, you noticed as they got closer.

"Do you want some breakfast, Sam?" Your voice was still hoarse from being unused. You didn't have to look up to know that it was the younger of the two; you knew that the other brother would go upstairs and go straight to bed, not wanting to risk another fight. Sam shook his head and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I'm going to head to bed, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." A weak smile graces your lips, nodding in response.

"Get some sleep, Sammy. You look awful."

"Oh gee thanks."

"It's what a best friend is for." He mustered up a laugh before leaving you alone again. The sound of the screen door closing left you alone in your thoughts. You hated it when you fought with Dean. Not just because he was one of your best friends, but because you loved him. You weren't sure when it had happened, but you knew that you had fallen in love with him. Of course, you never let him know that. To risk a friendship as amazing as his just wasn't worth it. You were always there for him; to clean him up after a hunt, to help him home after a drunken night at the bar, or even just to talk. Besides Sammy, you were always the one he could count on, you were his go to. When you fought with him, it tore you up inside, but sometimes he was too damn stubborn. But so were you.

A yawn filled the air as you felt the warmth on your feet from the first rays of sunshine. Stretching your arms, you climbed down from the railing deciding that you could use a few more hours of sleep before the boys woke up. Placing your mug on the counter, you drug yourself upstairs, the thought of sleep making your body heavy. It wasn't until you stepped inside your room you noticed something in your bed. It moved slightly. That definitely wasn't there when you got up. A small smile threatened your lips when got closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed. It was moments like this when you remembered why you couldn't stay mad at him. His breath steady and even, his lips parted slightly, face calm as he slept. There had only been one other time that this had happened, which meant that this had been a pretty bad hunt. You felt all the anger towards him fade away as you watched him sleep; running your fingers gently through his short hair, he let out a soft hum. You could see the smile now gracing his lips. It was in moments like this that you thought maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about you. But that couldn't be true.

Your fingers release themselves from his hair, climbing into bed you lean over and place a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead. Emerald eyes meeting yours as you pull away. You both hold the stare for what seems like forever until you break it to look out the window as the first morning rays begin to flood your room.

"You look beautiful ... in the morning light…" You hear him whisper through a yawn, his voice deeper than normal laced with sleep. Your eyes meet his again, trying to decide if you really just heard that. "I'm sorry…" he continues wrapping one of his chiseled arms around you. One of your hands run down his arm lightly, sending a quick shiver up his spine.

"Bad hunt?" He nods. "Wanna talk about it?" He shakes his head, pulling you closer to him so he can rest his head in the crook of your neck. The mixture of his hot breath and stubble tickling your skin. You begin to run your fingers through his hair again, earning another small hum in response. "Go to sleep, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up." With that you feel his breath begin to even out again, sleep taking over his body and soon after yours.


	2. Chapter 2

You didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching your door, giving you no warning that you were about to rudely awakened. "Hey, have you seen Dean?" The voice pulled you out of your slumber; glaring at the person in the doorway, you were met with widened eyes. "Nevermind. I'll just be downstairs." Sam turned quickly on his heels closing the door behind him. The strong arms around you tightened their grip. His stubbled chin grazing along the landscape of your neck. Soft groans spilling from his lips.

"Get out of my dream, Sammy..." You heard him mumble. You tried to hold back the laugh threatening to escape your lips as you ran your fingers through his soft brown hair. He moaned softly against your skin.

"Wake up," your voice was hoarse, thick with sleep. You earned a groan in response. "Fine." Removing his arms from around you, you climbed out of the bed. Picking up his clothes from the floor, you tossed them into your laundry basket.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, laptop on one side of him, a book on the other. A old cup of coffee sat next to the computer. A small giggle spilled from your lips when he looked up at you. "Sorry about that, Sammy. I promise, nothing happened."

"I definitely wasn't expecting that."

You sigh heavily as you sit in the chair next to him, biting down on the corner of your lip. Sam was the only one who knew about your feelings for Dean. Well, besides Castiel. You made sure Cas knew when and when not to speak about the topic. You didn't even have to tell Sam, he figured it out on his own. "I thought you two were mad at each other." He was now attempting to drink the bitter, cold liquid; the look on his face made you laugh.

"We were, we are. I don't know, Sammy. I went upstairs to go back to sleep and there he was." You take the coffee cup from his hands, walking towards the coffee maker to replenish the ever needed drink. "He's only done that one other time."

"This was a pretty bad case. It probably was a good thing you didn't go."

"How can you even say that, Sam? What if something happened to one of you and I wasn't there?" He sighed taking the coffee cup from you as you sit back down next to him. He closes the computer in front of him so he can get a good look at you. The serious expression on his face never failing.

"I'm serious. This thing, it wasn't like most. It could get inside your head. It knew your worst fears and how to use them against you."

"I've handled worse than that on my own."

"It used you against him. If you had been there... I don't even want to know what could have happened."

"What do you mean it used me?" Sure, you knew that Dean worried about you. He always had. It was why he wanted you to stay behind in the first place. Because he worried that something might happen to you. But, you had been able to hold your own before you met them, you sure as hell could do now. Why would this thing use you against Dean?

"You are his worst fear." Your face contorts by his choice of words. "Losing you. Something happening to you. Seeing you hurt. Seeing you flirt with other guys. It all hurts him. It scares him. Had I not just spoken to you on the phone, I would have believed you were there myself."

"It made you think I was there?" You sat up a little straighter.

"This thing... It had images of you walking around. One of them was what led us right to it. It killed you right in front of him. It scared the hell out of him, he thought you were there." You swallowed the lump in your throat. Just the idea that something could create carbon copies of you and lure the boys right to it was enough to send a chill down your spine. "He loves you, you know." Neither of you had a chance to further the conversation because the subject at hand walked into the kitchen.

Hair a mess, eyes still glazed over, and voice thick with sleep. He scratched his chest as he sat in the chair across from you looking at Sammy. "Dude, can you try to not interrupt a good dream, next time?"

"And what was it this time, a film version of Busty Asian Beauties?" Sam's sarcastic tone earned a giggle from you as you poured two cups of coffee. Sliding one to Dean as you sat back down next to Sam.

"No… But, I tell you what, it felt so real."

"What was it?" You couldn't help but inquire. He had said something about a dream before you had gotten up. For the first time that morning, his emerald eyes met yours. He seemed alert now. Focused on you, studying you, as if he couldn't believe you had just spoken. "Hello, earth to Dean." Sam laughed as you waved your hand in front of Dean's face.

"You're speaking to me?"


	3. Chapter 3

You followed Sam's gaze into the room. Sam rolled his eyes as his older brother continued to fumble with the finishing touches of his suit. He grumbled to himself, mumbling a "shit" or "son of a bitch" every so often. You handed Sam your heels as you pushed past him to walk further into the motel room. Pushing his calloused hands away, you began to tie his bow tie. His emerald eyes focused on your face as you made sure that everything was in place. You smoothed the crisp material over his chest, flashing a quick smile before taking your heels from Sam and walking outside.

Two weeks after that morning in your kitchen and you and Dean hadn't talked. You weren't even really sure why it had upset you. As far you knew, the fight had been put behind you. But apparently, a few hours of sleep and one good dream had managed to wipe his memory clean. The distance growing between you and the older brother was worsening each day. It began to put a strain on Sam. He had to play middleman in the game you and his brother had been playing.

You slid your feet into the white peep toe high heel. It wasn't often that you got to dress up. You couldn't remember the last time you had dressed like this. Your freshly manicured fingers smoothed out the fabric along your torso, leaning back against Baby waiting for them to join you. Tonight wasn't about pleasure. Tonight was all business. But that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy yourself a little, right?

You looked up from your nails to see Sam smacking Dean on the back of his head as he walked out of the motel room. He shook his head walking towards the Impala and helping you climb into the backseat. Fumbling with the cuffs of his jacket, he slid into the passenger seat. The boys definitely weren't enjoying this job as much as you were. The engine roared to life as Dean pulled out of the motel parking lot. Too lost in your own thoughts to notice the glances he continued to steal in the rear view mirror. Tonight, it was your job to make everyone believe you were the daughter of a wealthy art collector who was interested in very rare piece that just so happened to be own by a "special" client. You were so lucky to be sealing the deal. The art collector was someone that knew of the boys through their father; he had helped their father years before and John promised that somewhere down the line if he ever needed anything that help would be there.

Sam spoke up as you got closer to the party. "We'll drop you off and then park, ok?" You nod. You took a deep breath as it got closer and closer, your hand resting on the cold door handle. "See you on the other side." You muster up the best fake smile you can as the door opens, a hand reaching towards you to help you step out of the back. You nod towards the man before smoothing your dress, standing up straight, and walking towards the large door.

The host of the party pulled you in for an affectionate hug, you were his daughter for the evening, after all. He pressed his rough lips to your cheek before he led you upstairs. Away from the crowd, he told you that the client had not arrived yet. He said that when the time was right, you would know. Until then, your only job was to enjoy yourself. He shot you a smile before leaving you alone. Glancing down at the people below you couldn't help but think, if only they knew.

You held the fabric between your fingers to keep it from tripping you as you walked down the marble staircase. Pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, you bit down on your bottom lip glancing around the room for the two familiar faces. You spotted them by the bar, the emerald eyes you loved so much fixated on you as you walked down the stairs. You could feel the blush beginning to rise in your cheeks knowing his eyes were on you. Black fabric tied around your neck, the low v-neck stopping just above your belly button, but still leaving enough to the imagination. The dress stopped just before it hit the floor, a long slit began mid-thigh, showing off your long tanned legs as you moved, the white heels adding a pop of color to your ensemble.

The two brothers moved through the crowd to meet you. older brother held out his hand to you once you reached the bottom of the grand staircase, helping you take your final step. A glass of red wine awaits you in his other hand, pressing your lips against his cheek, you mumble a "thank you." Electricity sparked through you feeling his rough hand resting against your exposed back. Sam began to talk about how much he hated things like this, he didn't understand why people would do this willingly. Dean's thumb began to rub against the skin of your back, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to remind yourself that this was just pretend. He was only pretending for the job. This was business, not pleasure.

You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice that Sam had slipped away to grab another drink from the bar. You continuously took small sips of the red liquid from the glass in your hand. Dean continuing to draw small circles on your back with this thumb. "Dance with me." At first you thought you had imagined it. It wasn't until you turned to look at him, those emerald eyes fixated on you, drinking you in, that you realized he had in fact asked you to dance.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's time." You closed your eyes, biting down on the inside of your cheek before plastering a fake smile on your lips. You pulled away from Dean with a sigh, glancing over your shoulder to see him running his rough hand over his face, a grimace on his lips. Your "father's" hand now replaced Dean's on your back as he led you up the stairs. Looking over the railing, you saw Sam back at Dean's side; their gazes never leaving you as you were led upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

The sudden impact took the breath out of you. Breathing was no easy task at the moment. You coughed as you tried to catch a breath. Then it became even harder to breathe. Fingers gripped around your throat. You gripped onto your attackers wrists, trying to push them away. The only thing holding you up was their grip on your throat. Blurry vision became spotted, spotted vision became black. He dropped you, the sound of his laughter filling the air in the room. You lungs gasped for air as you fell to the floor. Coughs echoed through the room as you tried to look around and see where he was.   
“Oh sweetheart, you should have known better.” A kick to your stomach. “Did you honestly think you could waltz in and out of here like it was nothing?” Rough hands grip your chin making you look at him. It takes all the energy you can muster up to spit, a mixture of blood and saliva covering his face. He takes a deep breath before pushing your head away, allowing it to collide with the concrete floor. “Where are your boys now, sweetheart, huh?”   
“Off’ing your … precious nest.” You had trouble getting the words out, but it was clear he heard you. He picked you up from the ground, shoving you back into the wall, your head colliding with the bricks once more. This time you could feel the liquid starting to slowly run down the back of your head. You still managed to smirk down at him, which only angered him more.   
“Do you know how easy it would be to kill you? To end everything in an instant.”  
“Then, why don’t you?”   
He laughs letting you fall to the floor with a loud thud. “Not yet, sweetheart.”   
You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be at the library. You were supposed to be at the motel. You were supposed to be anywhere but here. That was until you saw him. The head vamp. You couldn’t let him get away, the three of you had been tracking him for a week. Honestly, you knew it was too good to be true. He wouldn’t just appear out in the open after staying hidden for so long. But, that didn’t matter to you. The only thing that mattered was killing the son of a bitch. That was until he disappeared in an old warehouse, attacking you from behind. It didn’t help that you were still a little sore from your art dealing fiasco.  
Now here you are; beaten, bloody, and unable to secure enough strength to put up a fight. It wasn’t often you found yourself in this position.   
“I can’t wait to bite into you,” he said. He took out a small knife from his pocket, sliding the blade along your wrist. He took a deep breath, the smell of your fresh blood filling his nostrils. Using his hand, he caught some of the blood that had spilled from the cut along your vein. He brought it to his lips, licking the red liquid from his fingers. Despite the ache in your back and the fresh wound on your wrist, you could feel your adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. Maybe, if you just waited a few minutes you could manage to get enough strength to put up some kind of fight. “Showtime.” The smile on his lips matched the smile in his voice.   
The vamp disappeared just before the door opened, the boys following their blades inside. Dean was immediately at your side. He tried to pick you up, but you pushed him away. “Behind you,” you said before Dean was thrown into the wall next to you. Sam and the vamp struggled until Dean was able to find his way back on his feet. You were finally able to push yourself up from the floor, picking up your own blade that lay a few feet away. You swung the blade, the sharp edge coming in contact with the vamp’s throat. His head rolled off his shoulders, landing next to your feet. The empty eyes staring up at you as the body fell to the floor, a loud thud accompanying it. You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe some of the blood from your face.   
You cringed as you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder. The short lived adrenaline rush beginning to wear off. He felt your muscles tense under his touch, immediately letting go. The pain rushed back to your head and you dropped the blade in your hands. This time, it was you who gripped onto his shoulder trying to steady yourself. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, helping you stand up. “Woah there, I got you.”   
“We need to get her out of here,” Sam said as you rested your head on Dean’s shoulder.   
“Come on, apple pie.” A weak smile tugged on your lips hearing him call you by his nickname for you. It had been a long time since you had heard him call you that. You mustered up all the strength you could to walk, trying not to put too much weight on him. He slid into the backseat of the Impala next to you, but you had other plans. You spread your body across the back seat, resting your head in his lap. “You can’t go to sleep, yet, baby girl.”   
“Shut up, Winchester. I can sleep when I damn well please.” Sam laughed from the front seat. You closed your eyes; you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep. His fingers began sifting softly through your hair, every so often he would he hit that sore spot where your head had hit the wall. The pain began to dull as you felt your body give in to the much needed rest.   
When you woke up you realized that you were no longer in the backseat of the Impala with your head resting in Dean’s lap. A small smile tugged on your lips when you noticed your surroundings. They had brought you home. The warm water of the shower soothed your aching muscles, washing you clean of the blood and dirt caked on your body. You were still sore, you had been beaten all to hell of course you were going to be sore.   
Dean was passed out on the couch, small snores echoing in the air around him. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, an empty plate beside him as he focused on the computer screen. Filling up a coffee cup, you stood behind your best friend peering over his shoulder to see that he was researching a new case. “Have you slept at all, Sammy?”   
“I got what I needed.”  
You close the laptop with a sigh and press your lips together into a firm line. “Go upstairs, take a shower, and get some rest. We can do this tomorrow.” He opened his mouth to fight you, but his mouth closed as quickly as it opened. He knew there was no use in fighting.   
“Fine, but tomorrow…”  
“The day is all yours.”   
Dean passed his younger brother as he walked out of the kitchen. He sat down in the chair across from you, stealing the cup of coffee you had just poured for yourself. “You could have just asked for a cup, Winchester.” He smirks placing the cup back down, leaning across the table until you are only a few inches apart.   
“Where’s the fun in that, apple pie?” You push him away, rolling your eyes as you stand up to pour another cup. After a few moments, he decided to break the silence. “How are you feeling?”   
“I’m okay, still a little sore, but I’ll live.” The electricity sparked in your arm feeling his touch. You bite down on your bottom lip feeling his hot breath on your skin. He presses his body closer to yours, taking the now full cup from your hands, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before occupying his place back at the table. You clear your throat as you sit back down, “So, Sam was looking at a new case…”  
“And you’re not going.” He cut you off. Your eyes shot up from the table to meet his. It was clear that to him this was not up for debate. You lips pressed into a firm line as you sat back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. “You just got the hell beat of you and you want to jump on another case?”  
“I’m not a child, Dean.”  
“You’re act like it sometimes.”  
“How can you sit there and say that I shouldn’t go on another case because I got a few bumps and bruises? You do it all the time.” You push yourself away from the table, walking towards the door. Before leaving, you make your stance clear, “I’m going with you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was coming to as you began to cut through the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. His entire body tensed. Once he was free, he pushed you against the nearest wall, forearm resting against your throat. You could see the alarm in his eyes as he scanned over you. “Sammy… It’s me.” Before he could respond, you heard footsteps approaching the room. His eyes widened, pushing your into a dark corner of the room before returning to his previous position, hands falsely tied behind his back. Back against the wall, you rubbed your neck. That’s when you heard it. Your own voice echoing through the quiet room. But it wasn’t your voice.   
“I really do hate to do this…” Looking around the corner, you saw Sam still attempting to play asleep. But what really caught your attention was the new thing in the room. Standing over Dean, a sickening sweet grin plastered on its face, it pulled his head back, mouth agape with a small white cloud of smoke beginning to pour from his lips. It was you. Sam looked at you from the corner of his eye. But you were already gone, silently moving to get closer to this thing. You reached down to pull the knife from your boot. You swore you could hear Sam swallow the lump in his throat as he tried his best to control his movements.   
“You know… I always wondered what it would be like to have a twin,” your words caused it to drop Dean’s head. It looked over its shoulder at you, but you weren’t ready for the impact of the wall behind you. It pushed you into the brick of the fireplace, digging your exposed skin into the rough surface. You spit in its face giving you just enough time to push it away. But it had managed to grab ahold of your long hair, twisting its fingers into the golden brown locks. The only good thing about fighting yourself is you know your own weaknesses.   
Managing to swipe it’s feet from under it, the creature fell to the ground with you on top of it. A busted lip, scratch marks down your cheek, and a gash to the head allowed blood to trail down the side of your face as you threw punches left and right into the face. Your face. You picked it up by the hair, tossing it face first towards the brick wall before stabbing your knife into the back of its neck. It dropped to the floor, cold eyes staring up at you. Your bloodied, beaten, cold face stared up at you. A trial of blood made its way down your side as you wiped your knife on your tank top.   
“Crocotta,” you and Sam said at the same time. “By the time we figured it out, it was too late,” he finished.   
“So did I.” As much as you hated to admit it, Dean had been right. You should have stayed back, should have sat this hunt out. But, you would never tell him that he was right. Instead, you had opted to head to the library to do some more research while they went to scope things out. They were only going to be checking things out, they wouldn’t need you there yet. But you knew all too well that nothing ever went smoothly. Once you realized that it was a Crocotta, you had to warn them. But getting ahold of them turned out to be more difficult than normal. After numerous unanswered phone calls, you knew that something wasn’t right. “Seems like you needed me here, after all,” a smile graced your lips as you knelt down to cut Dean’s hands free.   
“We could have totally taken it.”   
“So you’re saying you could stab something that looks like me?” He fumbled over his response, earning a small laugh from you. Dean held his head as he began to come to. His eyes scanning the room before landing on you, his body immediately tensing. “Dean, it’s me.” His eyes looked past you at the creature lying on the floor in a pool of blood. “I promise.” It caught you off guard when he embraced you, hugging you tightly to his chest as if you were going to slip away at any moment.   
Exhaustion washed over you as you walked into the bunker. Dropping your bags onto the library table, you fell into one of the chairs with a deep breath. On the way back, you had managed to crack a few jokes. Mostly about how it was a good thing you had been there to save their asses. Sam found them pretty funny, Dean not so much. As he drove, he would shoot glares at you in the rearview mirror. Definitely not the same person who had been holding onto your for fear life just hours before.   
“I think I’m going to head to bed. I’m exhausted.” You stretch your arms up, sitting up a little straighter before pushing yourself up from the chair. Hearing Dean scoff, Sam walked out of the room. He wasn’t about to get in the middle of another one of your fights. “Is there something you wanted to say?”   
“Oh, it’s nothing, Princess.”   
“Spit it out, Dean.” Your voice came out louder and harsher than you had intended it to. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.   
You knew he couldn’t stand the fact that you had been able to prove him wrong. You had been the one to figure it out and save their asses. On a normal day, it probably wouldn’t have bothered him. But most days weren’t so normal lately. You were afraid of what either of you would say. But you continued to fight with him. He knew your weak points and he knew just how to use them against you. His hand came down on the table forcefully, his emerald eyes darkened with anger. Both of you leaning across the wooden table, glares never leaving the other. “Dammit! Why can’t you do anything I ask, huh? One of these days, you’re going to end up and I won’t be able to save you. Sometimes I think having you help us was a bad idea.” That stung. But you wouldn’t let it show. Your face remains stoic, never changing no matter how much his words hurt you. He held the bridge of his nose trying to calm himself down, but it just wasn’t working.   
The bunker door echoed through the quiet air. Finally, you let out the breath you had been holding. Finding your way back to your room, you sat on the edge of the bed. The words you spat at one another replaying in your head.   
“You two really need to stop this.” Sam stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he quirked his eyebrow at you. “One of these times… You’re going to kill each other.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SO I THINK THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE LAST ONE! HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ONE :) A LITTLE FLUFF AT THE END. 
> 
> WORDS: 1,174

You waited and waited to hear the sound of the bunker door opening, you were determined to stay up so you could apologize when he got back. But as time continued to pass by, your eyes became heavier and heavier. The adrenaline no longer coursing through your veins, the exhaustion you felt earlier consumed you.

The door creaking open pulled you out of your dreamland as fast you fell in. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as you opened them to look around your room. A dark figure standing in the doorway. The light reflected off his glassy green eyes as he stood there, debating whether or not to come in. “I didn’t mean to wake you…” You tried to lie and say you weren’t sleeping. You tried to tell him that you had been awake, but he knew better. “I’m sorry, we can talk-”

“Dean, shut up and come in.” You rubbed your tired eyes and turned on the light, trying to adjust to the newfound brightness. Closing the door behind him, he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, resting on the balls of his feet, his eyes looking around you room. Looking at anything but you. You tried to cover up the yawn building up in your throat, but it was no use. “Where…" Yawn. ”… have you been?“ He shrugs suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

"I just had a few drinks.” You already knew that, so why did you even ask? You pat your hand gently on the bed next to you. He waits a few moments, debating with himself whether or not to sit down. Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh and sits next to you. Hands folded in his lap, head hung low, eyes glued to the floor. “I didn’t mean it.” You aren’t sure what he means. Your lack of response persuades him to continue. “I didn’t mean it when I said it was a mistake, you hunting with us.”

“I know that, Dean.”

“No.” He quickly turns to look at you. His eyes finally meeting yours for the first time. “I really love having you with us. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t. You’re part of the family.” Great, that’s just what you wanted to hear. You were part of the family. Families didn’t have the feelings you had for Dean. It wasn’t hard to get the message he was sending to you. But then why did Sam say Dean loved you? “When I wanted you to stay back, I was afraid of something happening to you.” His eyes glossed over and he thought about that night. He still didn’t know that you knew what had happened. “When that vamp had you, all I could think about was what if I lost you…”

Dean wasn’t always the best at expressing his emotions. You weren’t sure if you had ever heard or seen him truly express how he was feeling before. Seeing him on the verge of breaking down right in front of you broke your heart. He carried the weight on his shoulders, but he never complained. Sometimes, he thought what life would be like if he had chosen to live a normal life; he never told anyone that. In his mind, this was the life he was supposed to lead. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

His emerald eyes were glassy. Dean didn’t cry. At least not in front of people. He tried to cover up the fact that his eyes were stinging with the wall of tears building up, he tried not to let you see them. But it was hard when he was sitting right in front of you. He wiped his face with the palm of his rough hand trying to hide any evidence. But his eyes remained as glassy as before. You watch as a single tear falls, but this time he doesn’t even try to hide it. You reach over and wipe his cheek as another falls. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes taking a deep breath. Your eyes begin to burn as your own tears begin to build up.

“I’m sorry, I really am…” His voice was low, a whisper. “I-I care so much. If something ever happened to you…” He grasps your hand in his, pressing his lips against the back of your hand. A weak smile forming on your lips.

You rest your free hand around the back of his neck, sifting your fingers lightly through the soft hairs on the nape of his neck. He leans into you, it doesn’t take long for him to finally let out what he had been holding in so long. His strong arms found their way around you, pulling you closer to him. He sobbed quietly into your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. You knew that his fights with you weren’t the only things bothering him. He carried things with him that no man should ever have to carry. He carried things with him that weren’t even his fault, yet he felt so responsible for it all. He tried not to let it show. He tried not to let anyone in. But even the toughest man had to let his guard down sometimes.

“I’m sorry…” his voice is weak, strained, and exhausted. You smile at him as he pulls away slightly, wiping under his eyes. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I should let you get some sleep.” You know that he isn’t going to bed. If he leaves he will walk straight to his room, open a bottle of whiskey and drink until the sun comes up.

“Dean…” He grips the handle of the door a little tighter hearing you say his name. He feared the worst. He always did. “Why don’t you sleep in here, tonight?” You watch as he hesitates for a moment, his hand still gripping onto the handle. For a moment, you think he’s going to walk out. Running his hand over his face, he sits on the edge of your bed near you.

The moment he makes contact with your bed his eyes begin to close. The exhaustion finally catching up with him. You push the flannel from his shoulders tossing it on the floor next to the bed. “This is not how I imagined you undressing me…” He mumbles with a hint of a smile on his lips. You can’t help but laugh as you tug his boots off. He lays back on your bed, his lips parted slightly as his breathing slowly becomes synchronized. You turn off the light before pulling the covers over both of you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. He kisses the top of your head, his breathes tickling the back of your neck as he slips into unconsciousness.


End file.
